


Crimson

by radalecki



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angry Derek, BAMF Stiles, Cliffhangers, Derek Feels Guilty, Derek and Stiles are Kidnapped, Derek's POV, Drugs, Guilt, Hurt Derek, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Derek, Kidnapped Stiles, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, POV Derek, POV Stiles, Protective Derek, Scared Stiles, Stiles is Derek's Anchor, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 17:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2396975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radalecki/pseuds/radalecki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing Derek remembers is feeling a prick in his neck, seeing red behind his eyes, so much <em>anger</em>, and not being able to control the wolf.</p><p>The next thing he knows he’s pinning a flailing, delicate body underneath him against the cold, hard concrete, looking into panic-stricken, whiskey eyes, and hearing the terrified shrieks of Stiles.</p><p>“Derek! <em>Derek!</em> Stop, stop... <em>please, just stop.”</em> Stiles pleads through the trickling blood on his lips. Derek blinks, twice, before looking confused at the scene in front of him, or rather, beneath him.</p><p>***</p><p>Derek and Stiles are kidnapped and someone is drugging Derek into ripping Stiles to shreds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. His Eyes Match His Blood

“Have fun, you two,” the malicious man utters with a smirk as he pulls out a half-filled syringe. 

The last thing Derek remembers is feeling a prick in his neck, seeing red behind his eyes, so much _anger_ , and not being able to control the wolf.

The next thing he knows he’s pinning a flailing, delicate body underneath him against the cold, hard concrete, looking into panic-stricken, whiskey eyes, and hearing the terrified shrieks of Stiles.

“Derek! _Derek!_ Stop, stop... _please, just stop._ ” Stiles pleads through the trickling blood on his lips. Derek blinks, twice, before looking confused at the scene in front of him, or rather, beneath him.

Stiles eyes are shut and his face is contorted in pain. He’s violently shaking while his sobs and whimpers echo through the small, metal cell. And that’s when Derek notices the blood. He not only smells but _tastes_ the metallic flavour of it. It’s all over the floor, Stiles’ body and... Derek’s hands.

Derek yelps as he jumps off the teenager, a look of horror planted on his face. _What did I do?_

“Th-thank god,” Stiles chokes out as he curls in on himself and pressing his hands to his stomach.

“Stiles, what... what happened?” Derek slowly stammers out as he crawls back over to Stiles, wanting to siphon some of the pain. But Stiles flinches back, that chilling fear re-plastering on his face. Derek puts his hands up. “Hey, hey, I’m not gonna...” But his reassurances die as he looks at his blood-coated hands in front of him.

Stiles’ face is the image of mistrust as he spits out his next words, along with sticky blood. “Oh, what was that, Derek? You’re not gonna, what? Hurt me? Tell that to the fucking red-eyed _monster_ clawing at me and bashing my head against the ground a few minutes ago!” Stiles was shouting by the end of his rant, breathing heavily as if he were on the verge of a panic attack. Derek moved forward again, wanting to comfort him, fix what he did, but Stiles scrambles back. “Don’t fucking _touch_ me!”

Derek looks back down at his hands. _I did this._ He thinks, shuddering. _I couldn’t control myself and I almost killed the one thing left in my life._

Stiles must notice Derek’s guilt, as his face softens. He sighs and speaks in a quieter tone, yet his voice remains shaky. “Look, Der, it wasn’t your fault. It was that dickhead’s fault, the one who drugged you up with some kind of ‘let’s kill Stiles’ shit.” He sways in his sitting position, seeming paler by the second. _He isn’t keeping enough pressure on the wounds,_ Derek observes.

“Can I... can I help?” Derek offers. “Can I touch you?”  
Stiles hesitates, seeming anxious that Derek would wolf out again. After a few battles within his mind, he decides. “Y-yeah, sure.”

That’s all Derek needs before he rushes over to Stiles, siphoning the pain and applying enough pressure to the gashes with his strength. His stomach drops and he becomes light-headed as his eyes sweep over the main wounds. There are five long slashes that start from above his collarbone and travel all down Stiles’ front, finishing below his jutting hip bone. Derek is trying to ignore the ringing in his ears that could have only been caused by Stiles’ screams.

Suddenly Stiles inhales sharply as his eyes lock on something behind Derek’s shoulder. Derek spins around to meet the intruder, the same vicious-looking – scratch that, just _vicious_ – man that locked them in this tiny cell and dosed Derek with that loss-of-control drug. And he was _laughing._

Derek snarled at the man, covering Stiles’ body with his own at a subconscious attempt to protect Stiles’ limp body. He fought away every instinct to just let loose and shred the man to pieces, he needed answers and needed a way to get out of this dungeon. 

The man finally spoke up with a sour voice. “Did you enjoy your honeymoon?” 

Derek growled a second time, louder. 

“Oh, save it, wolf-boy. I’m not scared of you. Anyway, you weren’t meant to break out of the toxin so early. The boy was meant to be more than a mere chew toy. He was meant to be a _snack._ ” He finished with a smirk.

Shivers went down Derek’s spine. _Thank fucking god I stopped myself._

Derek had enough. “What the _hell_ are you doing with us.” It wasn’t a question, more like a demand. He could smell Stiles’ blood flowing more rapidly, and he needed to find an escape, fast.

“What do you think I’m doing?” the man answered, looking at Derek as if he were a child who’d just spelt a word wrong. Then he turned serious. “I’m turning you into the monster you were meant to become.”

With that, he pulled out another syringe, this time the mysterious liquid filled to the top.

Panic surged within Derek, and the last thing he hears is Stiles beginning to whimper.


	2. Stay With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Shut up, Stiles. Just hold on.” Derek responds gruffly, still not meeting Stiles’ gaze and continuing with piercing his own abdomen.
> 
> “Derek, what are you-“
> 
> “I said, _hold on!”_ he growls, snapping his head up and finally meeting Stiles’ gaze. His irises are alternating between emerald and red, and it seems as though he’s fighting the urge to attack Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This next one is from Stiles’ POV. Enjoy chapter 2! :)

Stiles lets out a whimper as he realises what’s happening. _No, no, not again. Please._ His vision is going cloudy as his eyes follow the syringe going into Derek’s neck a second time. The man then drops the syringe on the floor and begins to walk out of the room. 

_Hell, no,_ Stiles thinks as he musters up all the remaining strength he has to move and pick up the syringe. Derek’s eyes are transforming into an electric red and he’s beginning to growl. _It’s now or never._

Stiles hauls himself up and impales the needle through the guy’s throat from behind, letting out a wail in pain from the effort. He shoves it in again. And again. _Take that, you son of a bitch._

Stiles then sags to the ground, the man grasping at his neck falling down with him. _At least Derek can kill us both now._

As if reading his thoughts, Derek has finally lost all control and advances towards Stiles, seeming savage. His clawed hand goes for Stiles’ throat, and Stiles tries to fend it off as an idea pops into his head. He uses his last sliver of strength to shove Derek’s claws into the man’s face next to him. 

The man whines in pain, still convulsing and grasping at his throat, until he goes quiet. He seems to be Derek’s new target, as he is quickly sliced by Derek’s savage claws. But it doesn’t last long, as Derek’s eyes travel to Stiles. _Shit, here we go. Prepare to die, Stiles. Any last words?_ He thinks sarcastically to himself, accepting his fate.

He tries to scramble back before two sets of claws violently sink into his thighs, dragging him towards Derek. Stiles cries out in pain, _so much pain._ But he can’t hear his agony; only the deafening throbbing in his own skull. He opens his eyes a final time, blinking away the flooding tears, and sees the two scarlet orbs of Derek’s eyes hovering above his own. 

He could have sworn he saw a flash of green in those deep pools of crimson, before he blacks out.

*** 

He wakes to the sound of silence, and he has to blink away warm blood oozing into his left eye. Everything seems sluggish, slow motion. There’s still a hammering inside his skull, but he tries to ignore it as he takes it his surroundings.

There’s a gory mess of a figure in the middle of the room – who could only be their kidnapper – and another figure hunched in the opposite corner of Stiles’. _Wait, I’m alive?_

He’s alive, so that means Derek didn’t maim and kill him. That means Derek is himself again, right?

“Derek?” Stiles murmurs tentatively towards the hunched figure in the corner. Derek’s ears prick up, but he doesn’t look in Stiles’ direction. It looks like he’s clawing at his own stomach. _What in the holy green garden is he doing?_

He speaks up again, a little louder, trying to ignore how weak he sounds. “Derek, what’s going –“

“Shut up, Stiles. Just hold on.” Derek responds gruffly, still not meeting Stiles’ gaze and continuing with piercing his own abdomen.

“Derek, what are you-“

“I said, _hold on!”_ he growls, snapping his head up and finally meeting Stiles’ gaze. His irises are alternating between emerald and red, and it seems as though he’s fighting the urge to attack Stiles.

He finally understands what’s going on, so he does what he’s told. He shuts up, he holds on. He realises that Derek is triggering the healing process and pushing the toxin out of his body, or at least trying to, just like that time back at the Sheriff’s station when they were both paralysed by Kanima venom. 

After a few more excruciating moments of silence, Derek’s shoulders loosen and he slowly turned to Stiles. To his relief, his eyes are back to normal; that intense, sea green. 

Derek lets out a held breath. “ _Shit,_ Stiles,” he mutters before rushing over to what must look like a bloodbath. _I’m sorry,_ Stiles wants to say. _I’m sorry I was so defenceless against you._ But he can’t get the words out as he’s drifting in and out of consciousness.

Stiles can vaguely recognise Derek searching the man’s body and finding keys to the cell door, before scooping Stiles up in his arms. _Well, this is embarrassing._ He can also feel strange, sharp jolts coming from Derek’s chest. _Is he crying?_ No, he can’t be. _It’s Derek, for fuck’s sake._

Derek carries him through the maze of corridors. In his haze, Stiles can just make out Derek muttering something under his breath. “Stay with me, Stiles. Stay with me...” Stiles is just confused in his stupor. _What do you mean, stay with you? Where else would I go, I’m barely awake, genius!_

***

Derek finally gets them out of the intricate network of corridors, and Stiles squints, only to be greeted by blinding sunlight.

Well, that and the entire Beacons Hills County Police pointing loaded machine guns at Derek’s head.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise but I am not continuing this story :( :( I've lost interest and I got no time on my hands... Sorry!


End file.
